


A Drink

by PacketofRedApples



Category: Alan Wake (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Dubious Consent, Loss of Sanity, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mild Control's AWE DLC spoilers, Obsession, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28412598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacketofRedApples/pseuds/PacketofRedApples
Summary: Scratch needs to snap Alan out of his state... so he could write, of course.
Relationships: Mr. Scratch/Alan Wake
Kudos: 7





	A Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Did ya' miss me?   
> No?   
> Well, too bad...
> 
> This is going off the possibility that the "Tom" Zane fella in the AWE DLC is actually Scratch. Again.

Alan’s doing it again, staggering around the room, mumbling to himself… It was hard to watch the constant scenario, despite happening far too often, even for the Herald of Darkness. The latter man in question, shifts, grins at his options—usually, only two things came close to knocking Alan back into his semi-writing capable state. It was easy; either Mr. Scratch beat the shit out of him, or screwed his mind into aligning again. Any of the two options sounded appealing at this current moment to the double, so he decides to see how aggressively Alan would react to him now—make his decision from there on out.

So, he gets a glass and fills it with whiskey, only then bothering to approach the Champion of Light (even if he was far from his glory days now to be called that). Alan stills at the sight of another man in the room as if he couldn’t see him all along. Scratch shifts, offering him the drink.

“You look like you could really use it, buddy.” He feigns worry in his voice, with great effort. Carefully, Wake takes the tumbler of alcohol and downs it rather quickly. The doppelganger concludes on what his course of action is going to be. Taking the glass from the other’s shaky hands, Scratch moves into Alan’s space, taking his face into his other palm and stroking it lightly. His – their?—long fingers trace the grown out stubble onto the writer’s face, closing into a beard but not quite. Scratch knows he looks the same, but there’s something about the way Alan exists and carries himself, the air or aura surrounding him that constantly makes Scratch drawn in. He should know better, and he almost does. He hates Alan Wake almost as much as he loves him. He’s sure of that.

He knows eventually he’ll have to kill the writer, but for now—he’s not thinking of it. Being stuck in here with him, even if he occasionally leaves him—it’s not bad. He can always be around his other half, like this.

However, as Scratch gently caresses the other’s face, the man in front of him, the mirror image stiffens. Fear evident in his rapid eyes. The alcohol only slightly numbed him; he still knew to be afraid. The Herald picks up on this, leans in to kiss Wake, and whispers against him: “It’s okay, I’ll take care of you.”

Alan doesn’t exactly drop or instantly soften or even calm down at those words. No, no… instead, one of his hands covers Scratch’s (the one that rested against the writer’s cheek) and cautiously takes it in his.

Scratch grins, a terrible dangerous grin at that.

“I can make you feel better, you know.” The doppelganger says, locking eyes, air heavy between them. “Do you want that?”

Alan nods after a second or two of hesitation. That’s when Scratch realizes he has no idea who he’s talking to. He lacks the comprehension to understand it, most days, so it was no surprise.

Scratch sighs, then takes Alan’s hand and leads him to the table. There he lets go of the writer and places the things on the table differently so as to provide space for them.

“C’mere.” He mutters, once done. Alan stalls for a moment, before doing as ordered. The Herald pushes him against the table, begins to kiss him, violently and completely opposite of his previous actions with the other man. He allows for his hands to slide the jackets and hoodie off of Alan. Allows them to feel exhausted body underneath him… They pull away panting and the killer smiles, content at the sight of Wake looking absolutely ready to be debauched. Scratch intends to do just that.

And so, he lays the writer against the table and removes his pants, moves his legs up. And looming over him, he stares at the naked sight. Vulnerable, it would be so easy to destroy him right now. But Scratch admits to himself, this temptation is not one he should permit himself to give into. Instead, forcing the thoughts out of his head, he leans down to Alan’s slightly hard cock. There, he begins licking and lightly sucking on the flesh, before he moves a hand over it, taking the base and stroking it. He repeats the motion, for a good minute as he kisses it all over. Then, he straightens his back and unzips his identical pair of jeans. Takes out his already erect and ready dick.

“Relax, this will only hurt if you want it to.” The Herald states a matter of fact before sliding inside of Wake with no preparation. To which, rightfully so, the Champion grunts out in pain. However, Alan has done this plenty of times; Scratch doesn’t care at any point of it. It’s the same cycle they are in, yet somehow the writer forgets every time.

Scratch begins to pound into the other man, rapidly and with no uncertainty. He goes on and on before he screws his eyes shut and begins to moan the same name over and over again.

“Alan…. Alan…” He goes.

Wake rolls his head back, hand reaching out to reach into the Herald’s hair and bring his head down. Scratch catches the hint and begins kissing and nibbling at his god’s neck (after all, Alan was the god’s image to the Herald).

As the moment’s roll by, Alan’s hisses and sighs fill the room now. Content, Scratch pretends he’s content.

“You could feel this way—ah!-- All the time, if you only you’d – oh... If you’d give in!” Scratch mutters back to him, the writer doesn’t respond, just moans out vaguely.

Scratch exhales and continues moving in and out. It doesn’t last much longer as Alan’s eyes flutter open and he looks at the Herald with such conviction of truth-- Scratch stills and without warning comes into the writer. They both breathe, looking at each other as the doubles seed fills Alan’s body. Scratch grunts, and then shakes his head.

“Sorry. Let’s go again.” He begins moving again, knowing full well, this will go on for hours.


End file.
